


Epilogue: After Shiro Falls to Earth

by songsforfelurian



Series: Keep the Fire Going for Me [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Canon Compliant, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Keith and Shiro spend their first night together post-Kerberos, Keith bottoms in this part, Keith has some subtle xenobio traits, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sweet/Hot, also they're in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:55:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28418727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songsforfelurian/pseuds/songsforfelurian
Summary: Keith rescues Shiro from the Garrison after his escape from the Galra. They spend the night together in Keith's cabin, making up for lost time.---"Shiro… do you know who I am?"The question is ridiculous. Shiro's memories of Keith are all that's kept him alive for… he doesn't even know how long.He knew Keith by heart when he left. The fire in his eyes, the grace in his movement, the deepening timbre of his voice.The softness of his lips.The sweet press of his body in the middle of the night.These things followed Shiro through time and space… and this isn't the first time his captors have used them all against him.He's seen Keith before, heard the sound of his voice and felt the touch of his lips… only to wake up naked on a metal table or cold and alone in a cell. He can't remember the specifics, he can't remember much of anything… but he knows that the person sitting next to him might not actually be the man he loves.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Keep the Fire Going for Me [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2081394
Comments: 16
Kudos: 156





	Epilogue: After Shiro Falls to Earth

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this piece as an epilogue to my multi-chapter fic "Keep the Fire Going for Me," but I think it stands pretty well on its own! Figured I'd post it as a separate work for anyone looking for a quicker read, or anyone who might be uncomfortable with pre-kerberos sheith content. Enjoy! [Find me on Twitter!](https://twitter.com/forfelurian)
> 
> Fel

Shiro wakes to an unfamiliar ceiling. He holds perfectly still and listens, as his time in captivity has taught him to do. Sometimes gleaning the tiniest bit of sensory information from his surroundings can mean the difference between life and death. He knows this instinctively, though he's not sure why.

He knows that it's night time, that this room is being lit by an old fashioned lamp… and he knows that someone is touching him, dabbing gently at a sore spot underneath his ribs.

Gentleness is not a thing he is used to. He is immediately suspicious.

He remembers escaping in a ship and falling to Earth… but everything after that is a blur.

Maybe he never escaped at all. Maybe his captors are playing with his mind again, searching for information he's sworn over and over that he doesn't have.

"Shiro?"

His head snaps to the right in search of that familiar voice.

Keith.

Keith is the one who is touching him.

Or… he was. He's stopped now. He's sitting still at Shiro's bedside, holding a cloth that's stained with blood.

"Shiro… do you know who I am?"

The question is ridiculous. His memories of Keith are all that's kept him alive for… he doesn't even know how long.

He knew Keith by heart when he left. The fire in his eyes, the grace in his movement, the deepening timbre of his voice.

The softness of his lips.

The sweet press of his body in the middle of the night.

These things followed Shiro through time and space… and this isn't the first time his captors have used them all against him.

He's seen Keith before, heard the sound of his voice and felt the touch of his lips… only to wake up naked on a metal table or cold and alone in a cell. He can't remember the specifics, he can't remember much of anything… but he knows that the person sitting next to him might not actually be the man he loves.

"You look like someone I know," he says. "But I can't be sure if it's really… you."

His voice sounds funny to his own ears. Too loud. Too close.

"Who?" Keith's eyes are shining. He looks anguished and worn. "Please say my name, Shiro."

"Keith," Shiro says, because whether it's really him or not, he can't stand to hear his lover sound like that.

Keith's face crumples for a moment. Tears fall from the corners of his eyes and stream down his cheeks. He's beautiful, even in his grief. Maybe especially so. Shiro has never seen him look this pained…

And he's never seen him look this old.

Keith is older. His features are more angular, more defined. His hair is longer, loose and sleek around his shoulders. His chest is broader, his arms easily filling up the sleeves of his t-shirt…

He's older.

Shiro doesn't remember much, but he knows that when his captors showed him images of Keith, he looked like he did in Shiro's memories- the way he had when he was seventeen.

This Keith is not seventeen anymore.

"How old are you?" he asks. The question is silly, out of place, especially since Keith is still crying- but Shiro can't help it. He needs to find out.

He needs to know if this Keith is _his._

"I'm nineteen," Keith says. He wipes at his cheek with the back of his hand. "You've been gone for more than a year."

Shiro looks more closely at his surroundings, at the wooden paneling of the walls and the ancient furniture. He's never seen this place before.

Could his captors invent such a detailed fantasy of a place he's never been?

"Where are we?"

"The desert," Keith says. He's calming down now that Shiro is talking. "Not far from the Garrison. I live here now."

Shiro frowns at that.

"Why aren't you living at the Garrison?"

Keith sniffs. He takes a breath and sits up a little straighter.

"You were declared dead," he says. "You and Matt and Sam. The Garrison's official statement was that all crew members were lost due to… _pilot error._ They--" Keith's hands ball up into fists. A moment passes before he relaxes them again. "They blamed you, Shiro, and I just… I knew it couldn't be true. I knew something was wrong. The whole mission was beyond classified, and no one would tell us what actually happened to you. So I broke into Iverson's office and hacked into the records. I saw enough to know that no one actually knew you were really dead… but then I got caught. I managed to hide what I was doing in there, but Iverson expelled me on the spot."

Shiro's heartbeat starts to thud and thump while he listens.

This is a scenario he's never imagined before.

He's never once pictured Keith leaving the Garrison.

There's no way his captors could've stolen this from his mind.

He starts to sit up, and Keith leans close to help him, supporting his right arm as he scoots up against the wooden headboard. Shiro is too distracted to wonder what Keith might be thinking about the alien prosthetic that has taken the place of his natural born anatomy. He's too focused on the fact that this might really be _Keith-_

"Shiro," Keith says, his hand resting lightly in the center of Shiro's bare chest. "Be careful, okay? You're cut, and you have bruises-"

 _"Keith."_ Shiro reaches up to touch his hair, to comb his fingers through the strands. Keith makes a surprised little noise and leans even closer to him. His expression goes soft as Shiro touches and feels, letting his fingers brush against Keith's ear.

Keith feels so _real._ He might be the realest thing Shiro has ever felt.

"Is it really you?" he asks.

Keith makes a pained, pleading sound.

He gropes for the old wooden night stand next to the bed and opens the drawer. He reaches inside and pulls out the fern Shiro brought him from the moon, still secured on the cord that let Keith wear it as a bracelet.

"I wear it every day," Keith says. "I took it off last night, when… well, maybe you don't remember. The Garrison got to you first. They sedated you. I thought they were going to lock you up or something, I knew you wouldn't be safe with them after what they said about you. I took this off before I left because… I didn't want them to take it away from me if they captured me, too. I didn't want them to touch it."

He reaches into the drawer again… and pulls out the tiny, perfect replica of Shiro's hoverbike.

"And this… do you remember it? They sent an unmanned salvage vessel to Kerberos. I broke into the storage hangar before I got expelled, I needed to see what they brought back… and the whole shuttle was intact, Shiro. They dismantled it, but it was all there. That was how I knew they'd covered the whole thing up. And this was right where you left it, right where you showed me. I couldn't let them keep it. I couldn't stand it, knowing they just hid it away somewhere while you were still _out there…"_

Keith pauses, and Shiro is glad, because he's heard enough. He's _seen_ enough. He never could've imagined that Keith could be holding this figure in his hands.

This Keith is not a projection. He's not a fantasy or a wish. He's not a memory.

This Keith is real.

Shiro is overcome.

 _"Baby,"_ he sobs. His throat is tight. His tears fall in a shining cascade. He touches Keith's face with shaking fingers. "Keith, sweetheart, I remember _every second_ I spent with you-"

Keith surges forward to press their foreheads together, weeping openly again. His cheeks are wet when their faces touch. His hands are warm and solid on Shiro's chest and shoulder.

"Shiro," he says softly, his shoulders shaking. "I knew you were alive. I knew I would see you again. I waited, just like I told you I would. I waited right here for you."

"Keith…" Shiro's touching his neck, his chin, his mouth. They're so close, after being lost to each other for so long. Every touch feels like a shock, like a sudden splash of color. Shiro sobs, his chest growing tight, his throat constricting with the pain of unspoken words-

"I love you," he says. "It's okay if you don't-- I mean, I know you might not still-- but I never should've left without telling you-"

"I love you," Keith answers. "I've loved you every day since you've been gone, and for so long before that-"

Shiro kisses him. It's soft and careful, one kiss at a time while they both work their way through the overwhelming emotion. Keith feels just like Shiro remembers, and that calms him more thoroughly than anything else in the world ever could. He forgets to care about the strangeness of his prosthetic and touches Keith's face and neck with both hands, drinking in the softness of his lips every time they come together.

 _Keith._ He's still here. Shiro promised to come home to him, and it's actually happening. This moment has been his most desperate wish for so long. He begged the universe for just one more day, one more chance to hold Keith in his arms again, and now he can…

"Sweetheart," he says, his nose brushing into Keith's cheek, "come to bed."

Keith looks at him. He's starting to calm, but the tears are still coming, adding a gemstone luster to his violet eyes.

He kisses Shiro once more, then stands from his wooden chair.

He pulls his shirt up and over his head and drops it on the floor.

He climbs slowly, gracefully onto the bed to straddle Shiro's lap, settling his weight in careful stages while they search each other's eyes and touch each other's skin.

He holds Shiro's face with both hands and places a whisper-soft kiss over the scar that runs across his nose.

Shiro can't even remember how he got it, it's just one of the many horrors that's been haunting him since his escape… but the touch of Keith's lips chases that terror far away. Keith's weight in his lap is a balm. The heat of his body is a remedy. Shiro gathers him close and holds him, kisses his face and his chin and his lips, thinking for the first time in a long time that healing might be possible.

"Keith," he sighs, running his hands up and down Keith's bare back. He can feel the difference here, the change in his proportions. He's taller, broader. Stronger than ever. "So beautiful," he says. "I thought about this for so long… all I wanted to do was touch you… and you're right here, baby, you saved me..."

Keith shudders in his hold. He's pressing in close, kissing Shiro's cheek and temple.

"I set explosions to distract them," he says. "I stole my hoverbike back from the hangar. That's how we escaped."

Shiro kisses underneath Keith's ear, then drags his lips half an inch down the side of his neck.

"Brilliant," he says. "So strong. You rescued me." He kisses at the tender spot underneath Keith's chin. "My white knight…"

Keith makes a quiet keening sound- one Shiro remembers as well as he remembers his own name. Their time together was brief, but Keith left marks on him that penetrated so deep, Shiro is sure they'll never fade.

"I am," Keith says softly. He's running his fingers up and down the back of Shiro's neck, tilting his head to the side so Shiro can keep kissing him. "I'm yours, Shiro."

Shiro feels himself start to stir at that, and it's a tangible relief, to be aroused by the person he loves, to feel something so undeniably _human._ In his darkest moments, when he was sure he would never survive long enough to find his way home again, he regretted not making love to Keith before he left for Kerberos.

That regret vanishes now. He can see all the reasons it was worth the wait. Keith is older now, more certain of what he wants, better able to make this choice. Shiro can feel that certainty in every kiss and touch, and in the way Keith moves subtly in his lap, like he was made to fit right here in Shiro's arms.

It's the homecoming he almost gave up wishing for, all of a sudden within his reach.

He lets his tongue touch against the front of Keith's throat as he kisses him there.

 _"Oh-_ Shiro…"

He fits his hands around Keith's waist, just to feel the shape of him. He's narrow as ever, but more sturdy. Shiro can feel dense muscle tensing under his palms, hinting at the power Keith holds inside himself.

Shiro needs that- Keith's light, his fire. He wants to see it for himself, to feel it again.

He runs his hands down Keith's stomach and unfastens the button on his jeans.

Keith doesn't argue, doesn't tell him to wait or slow down or be careful. Keith needs this too, Shiro thinks, and he sobs once more, this time with relief.

"Shiro… you love me?" Keith is leaning into him, holding tight to his shoulder and the back of his neck, nuzzling into his hair. "You really do?"

"I love you," Shiro tells him, while he works his zipper open. "I hoped you knew, even though I didn't tell you-"

"I knew." Keith's lips find his cheek. "But it's so different to hear you say it…"

They're so close, Shiro thinks, finally so close. He can feel Keith's hair and his skin and his eyelashes. He can feel Keith getting hard in his lap. Keith smells like the desert, like warmed earth, like home.

 _"I love you,"_ he whispers, fitting his hands inside Keith's jeans and briefs to touch his bare hips. _"I love you, sweetheart…"_

Keith kisses him- still carefully, but with a desperation Shiro can feel down to his bones. He answers by opening his mouth, inviting Keith in, tasting the flavor of Keith's desire…

He eases Keith's jeans and underwear down from his hips.

Keith moves with him, rising up onto his knees, slipping out of the rest of his clothes while he watches Shiro's eyes. He doesn't look away until he's completely bare in Shiro's lap, and even then, it's only to tuck his face against Shiro's cheek.

"I haven't been with anyone," he says softly. "Not since you left."

Shiro wraps both arms around him and draws him in as close as he can, letting his hands travel up and down the lovely curve of Keith's spine.

In another time and place, Shiro might've thought twice about claiming Keith's first time. He might've taken things more slowly. He might've forced Keith to talk it through.

But Shiro isn't the same person he was when he left for Kerberos. He couldn't begin to catalogue all the ways he's changed, but he knows that the promise of Keith's love is one of the few things that kept him alive long enough to make it home. The man he loves is in his arms; that's all he needs to know.

Almost.

"Do you want to be with me?" he asks.

"Yes," Keith says. "More than anything."

Shiro believes that.

He's learned that the universe is so much more vast and so much more cruel then he ever dreamed- and Keith is the only person in it that he still trusts.

"You remember the night before the launch?" He touches his way down to Keith's hips. He pulls their bodies tight together.

 _"I remember,"_ Keith whispers. He's holding onto Shiro's shoulders, kissing his face. "We were together like this."

"You were perfect." Shiro kisses Keith's lips. He holds onto his hips and grinds up carefully, just to feel more of his weight, his heat. "I thought about being inside you then. I've thought about it so many times."

Keith lets out a broken, tender sound.

"Me too… love."

Shiro sighs, his throat tightening all over again at the term of endearment. It's so earnest, so powerful. Just like Keith.

 _"Baby,"_ Shiro whispers in answer.

Keith pets his hair and nuzzles close… then leans to the left and reaches into his bedside drawer.

He watches Shiro's eyes and slips a small bottle into his hand.

Shiro doesn't hesitate; he flicks the cap open with his thumb. He smiles- at Keith's boldness, and at the return of this muscle memory, more proof that the life he lived before still matters.

He squeezes lube onto his left set of fingers. It's like a cream that starts melting on contact, cool and pleasant to the touch. Shiro sets the bottle down where he can easily reach it.

"There are other people here," Keith says. He shifts in Shiro's lap, fidgeting. Nerves, Shiro thinks. Anticipation. "Other cadets. Friends, I think. They helped me rescue you."

Shiro nods. He touches affectionately across Keith's lower back, then moves his prosthetic down to knead gently into his backside.

"It's okay," he promises. "I'll be quiet." He licks his lips. "I'll be good for you, sweetheart."

 _"Oh,"_ Keith breathes, leaning into his space again. "Oh, Shiro…"

"I will," Shiro adds, slipping one slick fingertip between Keith's cheeks. "You've always been so good for me…"

Shiro feels the sting of Keith's teeth when they kiss. Keith grinds sensually in his lap, encouraging, so Shiro rubs over his hole to make him slick, testing pressures and patterns that might make Keith feel good…

 _"Yeah,"_ Keith's sighs, rocking slowly in Shiro's lap. "You can touch me, it's okay. I practiced for you, I like it…"

Shiro whines softly. He presses his face into Keith's neck, his cock straining dangerously inside the leggings he's still wearing.

"You're so beautiful," he says, his lips moving against Keith's skin. "So brave, always. My Keith. My perfect Keith…"

Keith groans in answer, and Shiro presses his index finger inside him.

Keith feels… different. Admittedly, Shiro has only ever touched two people like this, including himself… but he can tell that the way Keith's insides shift and tense in response to his touch is special.

He doesn't question it, doesn't examine it beyond that.

 _"So special,"_ he mumbles, mouthing at Keith's neck.

"Shiro…" Keith sounds like bliss personified. "I knew you'd come back, I knew we'd be together…"

Shiro presses deep, in awe of the way Keith's body hugs and accepts him, and the way Keith sighs and moves in his lap, like the pleasure is already overtaking him…

 _"Oh…"_ Keith trembles. He reaches between them and palms slowly over the mound in Shiro's pants. "Can I, love?"

Shiro nods, dizzy with anticipation. He's so hard, so sensitive and _wet,_ and Keith is so hot and smooth and _tight_ inside, shifting and changing, conforming to fit him perfectly…

Shiro presses another finger inside. He knows, instinctively, that Keith can take him- that Keith feels nothing but pleasure at being touched like this, that his body is ready and willing to accept him-

Keith wraps his hand around Shiro's cock with a groan, and Shiro's vision blurs at the edges, his stomach tensing, his body tight and singing with pleasure-

 _"Keith,"_ he gasps, fighting to keep his hand steady, to keep his touch gentle. "It feels-- _oh, God--"_

"Yeah," Keith soothes, grinding against him, sliding his hand up Shiro's shaft. "Me too, love--"

Shiro _comes._ His climax hits hard - so fast, so unexpected - the pleasure of Keith's touch too much for him to bear. He sobs quietly against Keith's cheek and soaks Keith's hand with cum, entirely overwhelmed.

"Oh, Shiro… that's it, just like that, just let it go, I'm right here…"

Shiro doesn't process most of this, but he's aware enough to feel that Keith is still moving, still grinding and holding tight to him, shuddering like he's nearing his own end, just the same as he had all those months ago…

Shiro works his wrist and fingers, touching Keith deep, letting the heat and pressure of his body ground him-

 _"Nhh…_ Shiro, I'm-"

"Baby," Shiro breathes out, still shaking, still overcome. _"Please-"_

Keith curls around him and shudders into climax. Inside, he quivers, his body rippling around Shiro's fingers in a rhythmic pattern, deep and steady and entirely mesmerizing. Keith gasps, his face tucked into Shiro's neck, his teeth digging knife-point marks into the sensitive skin there- and all Shiro can think is: _beautiful._

"I love you," he says. One of his tears falls onto Keith's chest. "I'm sorry, I didn't think I would-"

"No." Keith looks at him, his eyes burning, his expression fierce even as he trembles. "Don't _ever_ apologize to me. I can't-- I won't listen to that, Shiro, you're _everything_ to me, and I-- I wanted this so much, and it's perfect--"

Shiro nods, still crying silently. He cradles Keith's cheek with his prosthetic hand.

"You're right," he says. "It is."

Keith surges into his space for a fiery kiss. He rocks his hips, grinding back onto Shiro's fingers, then forward to slide his cock through the mess on Shiro's stomach…

 _Still hard,_ Shiro thinks. _So special._

He works his fingers until Keith is moaning into his mouth, and then he stops, only because Keith lays a hand on his arm to still him.

Keith rises up on his knees, easing his way off of him, then slides down Shiro's body, leaving kisses in his wake.

He kisses right through the mix of their release, lapping with his tongue- slowly, like he's savoring. Shiro remembers this, too. How Keith said he liked the taste, how Shiro's spend on his tongue reminded him of the ocean.

Shiro touches through Keith's hair and watches him, entranced… and already half hard again.

“You feel so good inside,” he says, still remembering. Praise. Keith likes praise, and he deserves it all. He deserves everything Shiro has to give and more. “And you look so pretty, baby. My sweetheart. Always so sweet for me.”

Keith nods, his tongue traveling up Shiro’s belly, his back arching beautifully. He swallows.

“For you,” he says.

He kisses Shiro’s cockhead, wet and messy, and Shiro tugs involuntarily at his hair, moaning low and quiet.

“Do you need to stop?” Keith asks. His lips shine in the low lamp light.

“No,” Shiro says. “Please… no.”

Keith laps at another splash of cum… then licks it right onto Shiro’s cock, spreading it deliberately until Shiro shivers at the sight, at the slow, sweet, wet drag of sensation…

Keith hums, tasting him. He doesn’t stop. He licks and kisses and nudges with his nose, his cheek, touching Shiro more tenderly than he’s ever been touched in his life, and Shiro watches him all the while, stroking through his hair, telling him every sweet thing he can think of, breathing shallow little breaths until he’s fully hard and aching for Keith from head to toe.

“Keith, baby…” He swallows hard. He feels so raw, so exposed, and it _hurts,_ but the pain is good. It’s real. It’s like the ache in his jaw that had followed him for days after Keith finally landed that solid punch. It hurts, and Shiro would get down on his knees and beg for more if he had to. “Keith… I missed you, I missed you so fucking much-”

Keith’s in his lap again in an instant, holding his face with both hands. He nods. He kisses at the wetness on Shiro’s face.

“I don’t know if I can make it worth it,” he says. “Whatever you’ve been through, whatever’s happened to you… I don’t know, Shiro. But I’m gonna try.” He nudges into Shiro’s cheek with his nose. “I’m gonna be right here, for as long as you want me to be.”

 _Forever,_ Shiro thinks… though part of him knows it isn’t time to say it yet.

He kisses Keith instead. He gathers him close and holds him tight.

“And I’ll be yours,” Shiro says, dizzy with love, with _want._ “For as long as you want me to be.”

Keith moves his hand to touch Shiro’s lips, like he wants to bring the words even closer to himself.

Then he grabs the small bottle, coats his fingers in melting cream, and smooths them carefully down Shiro’s cock.

He doesn’t say anything more. He just tilts his head in a silent question… and Shiro nods.

He keeps both hands steady on Keith’s hips as Keith rises onto his knees.

He watches Keith’s face as he lines himself up- watches Keith’s eyelids go heavy and his mouth fall open as he lowers himself down, as he lets Shiro inside.

Shiro trembles; the pleasure is so close, so hot and all-consuming. His love is so immense, so perfectly vast. He grabs at Keith’s body as Keith bottoms out in his lap, clutching him close, making wounded, desperate sounds- and then Keith starts to move.

“Shiro-”

Keith sobs out his name, his breath hot as it washes over Shiro’s temple. He’s moving his hips, grinding on Shiro’s cock in slow, perfect little thrusts, holding Shiro painfully tight.

 _“Please,”_ Shiro begs, halfway incoherent already. Keith is tight inside, gripping every inch of his length, quivering and squeezing all around him. “Please, baby, don’t stop- _oh, God, Keith…”_

“I knew it,” Keith tells him, the words exhaled on a fractured breath. “I knew we would fit together--”

Shiro cuts him off with a kiss, overwhelmed by the urge to taste him, to feel and _touch_ and lick and _bite._ Keith matches every move he makes with parted lips and stinging teeth, his body hot and solid as he moves on Shiro’s cock- a little faster now, just a little, just enough to make Shiro grab at his hips with bruising fingers-

“Yeah,” Keith pleads, his breathing shallow and harsh. “Your hands, love-- _fuck,_ please, I need-- I need you to--”

Shiro nips at his mouth, his chin. He remembers. He holds tight to Keith’s hips and moves his body for him, helping him rock and grind, chasing him to meet his every thrust. Keith surrenders to Shiro's hold on him, and that's enough to make Shiro lose his mind a little bit. Keith doesn't submit, not ever, not to anyone- except for him. Keith does so now because he wants to. Because he chooses to.

Because he's chosen Shiro.

Shiro holds him tighter, aims deeper, fights off a surge of pleasure so intense he almost falls over the edge right then- but no. Not yet. Not without Keith. He craves Keith's happiness, Keith's safety, Keith's pleasure. He craves these things like he used to crave the speed of a jet.

Keith is the only thing he craves now.

"Baby," he says, clinging to his self-control. "You were right, it's perfect just like this-- you couldn't be more perfect, sweetheart-"

Keith buries his face in Shiro's hair to muffle a shivering cry. He's close, Shiro knows. He can tell. He can feel it. Keith is tensing, tightening inside, _squeezing_ and quivering all around him every time they move together-

"Yeah," he breathes. Talking is good. Talking will help him hold on. "That's it baby, just-- let me take care of you, let me do this for you, I'm right here, Keith, and I love you so much-"

 _"Ngh-_ Shiro--!"

Keith sobs and clings to him as he comes all over Shiro's stomach, his knees digging into Shiro's hips, his body hard and tight-

_"Ahah-! Ah-- Keith--"_

Shiro has to bury his face in Keith's neck to muffle his cry. Keith's insides are squeezing, rippling all around him, gripping him impossibly tight- and it's pleasure like he's never known, lasting and lasting, because Keith's hold on him is powerful enough to stave off Shiro's release-

"Shiro, I'm-- I can't--"

"I know," Shiro groans, his mouth still pressed to Keith's throat. "C'mon, baby, I want you to, _please--"_

Keith wails into his hair, rocking and grinding in his lap until he falls into another shuddering climax. Shiro doesn't feel the wetness of his cum this time, but he does feel Keith's dick jumping and throbbing against his stomach, pulsing in time with the squeezing tension that has Shiro suspended in pleasure-

_"Yeah baby don't stop please I need to feel you-"_

Keith whines and curls around him, his nails scraping dully around the base of Shiro's skull, his teeth digging in sharp underneath Shiro's ear. He writhes and bucks and _licks_ at Shiro's skin, burning so bright that Shiro's engulfed in his light, in his heat-

_"Keith-"_

Keith's insides twitch and swim and stroke and _squeeze-_

_"OhGodKeithI'm-"_

_"Shiro,"_ Keith sobs, shaking from head to toe even as he moves on Shiro's cock, "Please-- come for me, _I need you--"_

Shiro bites down on Keith's shoulder and falls apart. His climax peaks hard and fast and _lasts,_ drawn out by the rhythmic spasm of Keith's orgasm. Shiro shakes while Keith milks him, holding Keith to his chest with both arms wrapped around his lithe, shuddering frame.

Shiro's spent enough time in hell to know what heaven should feel like... and this is it.

"I need you, too," he says, his face buried in Keith's shoulder, his world burning bright with Keith's fire.

* * *

They sleep sometime later, still naked and tangled up in Keith's bed- but the respite is short-lived.

Keith startles awake when Shiro squeezes his hand hard enough to make his knuckles crack. He sits up and assumes a defensive posture, leaning over Shiro to protect him. It could be more people from the Garrison, or who knows what else-

"Hey." Shiro reaches up for him, strokes his cheek. "I'm sorry. I think I had a nightmare."

Keith relaxes, but only a little bit. He can't begin to imagine what horrors might be haunting Shiro's dreams. His gaze lingers on the scar that rests across Shiro's nose, and several others that mark his chest and shoulders. He wonders if Shiro even remembers how they got there.

"It's okay," he says. He leans down to kiss Shiro's forehead, then lays down next to him again. "I'm right here."

Shiro nods. He laces their fingers together again and brings Keith's hand to his lips.

"I'd rather be awake," he says. "I'd rather be with you."

Keith scoots close to him- close enough that their knees touch under the blankets.

"I'm here," he says. "I'm not going anywhere, love."

Shiro smiles.

"That sounds so special when you say it."

Keith blushes at that. Now that he's found the confidence to tell Shiro exactly how he feels, he doesn't want to stop.

"I wanted it to be special. I wanted to say it when we could be… together."

Shiro slips his knee between Keith's thighs until their bodies are pressed together. They're both still bare from head to toe.

"We are together," he says.

Keith swallows. He wishes he could accept that as enough, but he's suffered too much grief in Shiro's absence to leave anything unsaid between them.

"And that means we're… um."

"In a relationship?" Shiro offers. "Of course, that's- well, that's what I want-"

"Me too," Keith interrupts. "I want to be your…"

"Partner." Shiro says the word with certainty. "It's how I've thought of you for so long, even before things got… intimate." He kisses the back of Keith's hand. "Is that okay?"

"Yes." Keith kisses Shiro's knuckles. "I love it."

He stays quiet for a moment, enjoying the heat of Shiro's body, the comfort of his presence. He needs to draw strength from their closeness before he broaches the next part of this conversation.

"But, Shiro… um. The other cadets? They're asleep down the hall. They seem like they could be on our side, they wanted to rescue you as much as I did… but I don't know them, which means I don't trust them yet. So… I think maybe we should keep things private between us. I don't want anyone at the Garrison to have any more ammunition against you…"

Shiro nods slowly. He lets go of Keith's hand so he can run his fingers through his hair instead.

"Always trying to protect me," he says. "My white knight." He leans in close to give Keith a soft, lingering kiss, and Keith's anxiety settles a bit. He wasn't sure how Shiro would react to this proposal, but they seem to be on the same page.

"Okay," Shiro says, keeping close enough that their noses touch. "Just for now. Just until we figure some things out. In public, we're best friends, like we were before. And in private…" He slips his hand under the blanket. He runs his palm indulgently down the length of Keith's bare side. "You're my partner," he says. "My love."

His hand rests heavily on the curve of Keith's hip.

Keith tries to concentrate. It's a legitimate effort.

"My love," he says. He lays his hand on Shiro's chest. "Mine."

They kiss each other softly. The heat between them simmers.

Keith wonders if it's normal to want Shiro as much as he does.

He already knows there are other things about him that aren't normal at all. Different reactions smell and taste. Reaction time and processing speed that the Garrison physician and psychologist had categorized as "vastly superior." Strength that far outpaces his stature and build.

Continuous bouts of arousal. Prolonged, consecutive orgasms.

A desperate craving for his lover's smell and taste and touch.

And at the center of it all, he thinks: the knife his mother left behind without a whisper of an explanation.

He's on the brink of discovering what it all means. He knows this, just as he knew Shiro would return to him. He wants to tell Shiro about everything- the differences that have piled up over the years, the knife, the intuition that led him to the signals that predicted Shiro's return.

He will, he decides… but not yet. Not all at once. Not when he can have Shiro in his bed, kissing him like this.

"Keith…"

Shiro's voice is low and rough. He says Keith's name like he's pleading for something, as if Keith wouldn't give him the moon and all the stars if he asked.

"I'm here, love," he says, tracing the lines of Shiro's shoulder blades with his fingers. "I'm right here."

Shiro touches their foreheads together… then uses his knee to spread Keith’s thighs apart.

Keith sighs with relief, with desire, pulling Shiro to him until he's flat on his back with his legs wrapped tight around Shiro's hips.

"I want to watch the sunrise with you," Shiro says, bearing down on him. He's kissing along the line of Keith's jaw. "Can we do that?"

Keith glances at the old fashioned alarm clock on his night stand.

"In about forty-five minutes," he says, reaching between them to get his hand around Shiro's filling cock.

Shiro sighs. He rocks his hips to chase their closeness.

"Perfect," he says. "That's perfect, baby…"

They lose themselves in deepening kisses and slow, easy grinding. Keith works Shiro over until he's heavy and hard, then lines him up without a second thought. He's still slick enough, he knows, and Shiro will trust him to make that call.

They sigh together when Shiro penetrates him. They hold each other tight until Shiro bottoms out.

There's no pain. Keith didn't expect any. He felt no pain when he practiced this by himself, wishing for Shiro's touch in the darkness of his otherwise empty room. He felt no pain when Shiro entered him for the first time, earlier tonight.

He feels nothing but pleasure and safety and _love_ with Shiro moving between his thighs.

He wants to say so, but he doesn't know how.

"Please," he says instead, sliding his heels up and down Shiro's back. "I wanted you like this, and I-- I don't want this to stop, Shiro…"

"It won't." Shiro works one arm underneath Keith's shoulder to hold him tight, to keep him pinned to the bed. He kisses Keith's mouth and rocks deep inside him. "Feel that?" He noses at Keith's cheek. "Feel me there? I'm not going anywhere. I'm never leaving here without you again. You hear me?"

Keith nods, already slipping toward the perfect euphoria he's only ever found in Shiro's arms.

He pulls Shiro down, holds him tight, and doesn't let go.

They make love slowly, sensually, kissing each other until they run out of air.

The passion builds; Keith loses track of how many times he comes.

When Shiro finally lets himself go, he has one of Keith's hands pinned to the mattress, and his face is tucked safely, securely, into the crook of Keith's neck.

* * *

They're quiet as they dress to go outside and meet the sunrise. Keith feels wobbly and light, his body recalibrating after experiencing sex for the first time. Clothing feels wrong- too heavy, too confining. He misses the heat and the taste and the smell of Shiro's naked body, and finds himself pausing, watching, yearning to step back into Shiro's space when he's supposed to be taming his hair and putting on a shirt.

Shiro notices. He smiles, adjusting the vest and shirt Keith found among his father's things.

"Don't worry," Shiro says. "We'll figure all this out. We'll have so many more nights together. I promise."

Keith nods. He doesn't bother trying to explain what he's feeling. He couldn't put it into words if he tried.

"You're… beautiful," he says. "I'm sorry. I can't stop looking. It's all just… new."

Shiro goes to him. He rests his left hand over Keith's collarbone.

"My sweetheart," he says. "Don't worry. I'm gonna get you right out of those clothes again the next chance I get."

Keith smiles, temporarily soothed.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Shiro kisses him. His mouth is so soft. He feels more familiar by the second.

"I'll give you a minute," Shiro says. "Meet you outside?"

"Yeah. I'll be right there."

Shiro flashes him a sweet smile and heads for the door.

He pauses before he opens it.

"Keith…" He raises a hand to the back of his neck, like he's nervous- as if they didn't just spend hours naked in Keith's bed together. "What you said earlier… about making it worth it?" He lets his hand fall to his side and spreads his fingers, almost like he's reaching out.

"It is," he says. "It was. It was all worth it, just to be able to come home to you."

He leaves through the door and pulls it shut behind him.

Keith stares after him, stunned.

He stumbles to his desk and braces his hands on the hard surface of it, suddenly unable to hold himself upright.

He bows his head and lets out a handful of silent sobs, pressing his fingertips hard into the ancient wood.

He doesn't know how to do this. He doesn't know how to be loved this much.

He'll learn, he knows. For Shiro's sake.

He'll start learning any minute. As soon as the sobbing stops.

He thinks of Shiro's scars. He thinks of Shiro grasping his hand in the midst of a nightmare.

He wants to take away that pain, that fear.

He thinks of Shiro whispering his name in the dark. He thinks of Shiro moving inside him, holding him tight as he comes.

He thinks he was born to take care of the man who shared his bed last night.

He cleans up his face and fixes his hair. He pulls on a clean shirt and takes his jacket from the hook on the back of his bedroom door.

He leaves through the back door of the cabin and steps out into the dawn, drawing in a lungful of cool air as he takes in Shiro's silhouette at the front of the property. He looks tall and strong, framed by the pale golden light of the rising sun. He looks as proud as Keith has ever seen him.

 _You saved me,_ he'd said. _You rescued me._

_I love you._

_My Keith._

Keith wants to go to him, to fold himself into Shiro's arms again, to slip his hands underneath Shiro's clothes and feel the heat of his skin.

But he can't. The others could be watching, listening.

He'll have to learn to pretend.

He can do that, to keep Shiro safe.

He follows the path of Shiro's footprints in the dusty earth.

He lays his hand on Shiro's shoulder and stands by his side as the sun slips over the horizon.


End file.
